That the Sun Might Shine Once Again
by LyriumLove
Summary: AU. Set after Commodus murders Marcus Aurelius. Laelia is the younger, bastard daughter of the Caesar. When her brother brutally kills their father and her sister Lucilla turns her cheek, Laelia sets out on a mission to find Maximus & avenge her father. Can she succeed, without Commodus or Lucilla catching her? I do not own Gladiator content.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **_This is a fanfiction based on several dreams I have had over the course of a few years, after Gladiator was released. I took the story and sort of ran with it. This will be rated T most of the time, occasionally traipsing into M territory. This is completely AU. The plot is as follows: Laelia is the bastard daughter of Marcus Aurelius. The youngest child, sister to Commodus and Lucilla. This story picks up at the death of Caesar and shortly after Maximus is captured and taken to Zuccabar. This is told in 3__rd__ person, mainly from Laelia's POV, save for the first couple of chapters, where an outside POV is necessary at times. If anyone notices any inconsistencies in spelling, grammar or basic story names or Roman history, please do message me. As current, I am researching the title which Laelia would have held. Lucilla was eventually called Augusta, but that title was redacted. Even as a recognized bastard, she would not simply be called Laelia. For now, I am sticking with "Lady" until I can investigate further. Please enjoy and do leave a review._

* * *

Chapter the First: "Brother, Lover, Fighter"

She had arrived too late. She had pressed the horse and those of her two guards nearly to exhaustion; leaving the moment she heard that Quintus had sent the Praetorians to kill Maximus and his family. She cursed herself for spending even one day in mourning for her father. Had she come out of her bed that first day, she'd known sooner and would have made it here in time. _Father always said the innocent reaped what the selfish sowed._ She slipped from her saddle as she brought the horse to a sudden halt, pausing only momentarily to gather her gown up in her hands before running towards the farm.

She ran only a few steps before defeat hit her every sense. Just ahead, were two newly dug graves. She could vaguely hear her guards yelling at her in the background as they arrived and dismounted. But there was a mounting roar in her ears, a rush of noise, her body's flight mechanism kicking in and trying to block out the pain. She was overwhelmed though, by the screaming sadness tugging at her heart. Her sinuses burned and her fingers and arms tingled. She could still smell the fire in the air, see smoke rising forlornly from the charred fields that Maximus had once plowed. She wished she could picture him there now, walking through the wheat, his hand proudly outstretched, touching nature's bounty.

Her bounty would be despair and guilt, nothing more. Vaguely, as she surveyed the destruction, she wondered why they hadn't torched the little farmhouse, oblivious to the guards behind her.

The horse she'd ridden so hard in her desperation had fallen, its heart giving out. The poor beast kicked in the dirt, in its death throes. Calinius, the younger guard, a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and twinkling blue eyes, swore. Although he and his partner, Grandrin had guarded Laelia since she was a child, they'd not seen her do something so foolish. Drawing his blade, he signaled for Grandrin to hold the horse's neck down. The older man complied, stroking the poor beast's neck and trying to calm it a bit. Calinius drew the blade deftly across the horse's throat, severing it. Hot blood spilled out and the horse moved no more. Standing, he wiped the blade on a cloth and placed it back into the scabbard. He couldn't help but observe that as the horse's misery had ended, his charge's misery was surely just beginning.

The two guards stood side by side at the top of a little hill, just before the farm. Laelia was stumbling towards the graves, her entire body hunched in sadness. Grandrin was older, nearing his sixties, but he too had served Marcus his entire life, watching over first Lucilla and then Laelia. Lucilla had discharged him from her service when she came of age; she preferred to choose her own guards. Guards who were easy to manipulate and bully. Grandrin and Calinius were no such men. They served Laelia proudly, even though she was a bastard. They thought the girl brave and kind, despite the vipers' nest she'd grown up in.

Calinius swore again. "I told her we'd be too late. Commodus has gone mad and Quintus too for following him. But I've sworn my life to protecting Lady Laelia. You as well. Unfortunately that doesn't include questioning her brother the Emperor or his puppets. Dammit, though. I feel like hell for this, Grandrin. Was there nothing we could have done?"

The older man shook his head sadly. "No, I don't think so. Had we protested against Quintus he'd have killed us as well and then there would be no one left to protect our lady. Eventually, someone would find out where her loyalties lie and her fate would be a darker one than it is now. "

"Dark it is, indeed." Calinius replied, sighing heavily.

* * *

Laelia sat in front of the two graves, her feet curled under her legs. She twirled the dried flowers left there, surprised that they hadn't blown away. Tucking them protectively into her purse, she ran her fingers over the gravely dirt in front of the graves, sifting it through shaking fingers.

Laelia was only a few years younger than Lucilla. Marcus Aurelius' only bastard and the only child not to be born pale and dark haired. She was a golden child, skin tanned even when she was not in the sun, hair long and golden as if Apollo himself had weaved it. She took after her mother, she'd been told. Her eyes, though, were her father's, no one could doubt that. Marcus had distinct, green blue eyes, with a small orangish dot in the left one. Laelia's were exactly the same, from birth. She had been borne of the wife of an old and decrepit Senator, who'd died shortly before Laelia was born. Her mother had died birthing her. Marcus had procured a wet nurse and she'd been raised with the other children, her siblings as a recognized bastard of Caesar's.

From childhood, she'd doted on her family. Commodus was by far her favourite, she followed him everywhere and endeared to please him. Marcus rarely had time for her, but as he grew older, he made an effort with not only her but all three of his children. Lucilla, for whatever reason, had hated her from birth. Most said it was because she was a bastard. Lucilla valued her position and nobility more than anything else in the world. Laelia had tried in vain to please her sister, to elicit love from her, but had never been successful. As for Commodus, he was generally amused by his baby sister and would tolerate her, but was never overly affectionate. No, that love was reserved for his Lucilla. He was nearly obsessed with her and for a time she him, until Marcus had her married off. When her husband died, Commodus swore he'd take her as his own wife when he became Emperor. Although the thought of being Empress seemed to tempt Lucilla, she'd refused in the end.

Towards the end of Marcus' life he had begun to make amends for all the wrongs he felt he'd committed, including his children. Laelia adored him, making his death all the more traumatic when it came. Although she and Lucilla had never been close, the night Commodus killed their father; Lucilla had called her to her own tent for the night. She'd been in a fit of grief, but had told Laelia the truth, cradling the younger girl as they both sobbed. For a bittersweet, brief moment, they were the sisters Laelia had always wanted to be. They clung to each other that night, forged together in their despondency.

But morning came and with it, any fragment of love Lucilla had cultivated disappeared with the morning mists. She'd told Laelia to put this all past her, she was resolved not to do anything. When word came that Quintus had ordered Maximus' death as well as those of his wife and child, Lucilla did not budge. Surely she had loved Maximus for some time! He was the true father of Lucius, her only child. She would not risk her own neck for him, though, she told Laelia. Laelia, in turn, had raged at her in a rare moment of passion. She couldn't believe Lucilla would just allow Quintus to send the Praetorians to commit such atrocities and kill the father of her child. But then, Laelia reasoned Lucilla had left Maximus for her late husband shortly after she'd got with child and didn't want anyone to know Lucius was a bastard. It all made sense to her, as she lay in her own tent that day, sobbing her heart out. Lucilla had wed and bedded for power and would not stop until she was Augusta. Not even when Commodus had killed their father and Maximus.

Laelia had loved Maximus since she was young, 12 or 13. He was ten years her senior but she didn't care. He had dazzled her from the moment she met him. Her father's general and nearly adopted son, Maximus was familiar with the family. He was intelligent, kind, educated and the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. But Lucilla had been the one to catch his eye and they'd become involved for a little over a year, until Lucilla had made a marriage match for political reasons. When Laelia came of age, Maximus was still unmarried. She was unaware that in the year since Lucilla abandoned Maximus, he'd moved on. So she went to her father and pleaded with him to propose marriage between her and Maximus. She pled to Marcus a well-rehearsed speech; that Maximus was a fine match as General of the Roman armies and like a son to Marcus besides. She told him that any noble woman would make a good match with him, respectably. She reminded her father that she was a bastard and therefore not an important pawn for political marriages. Finally, she told her father that she loved Maximus. He'd been angry at first, jumping to the conclusion that Maximus had seduced his lovely young daughter. She quickly told him the truth, that Maximus was unaware of her affections. Grudgingly, Marcus had agreed, he was getting old and sentimental. Too, he wanted to see Laelia taken care of. So he'd approached the warrior, only to discover that Maximus was intending to marry a girl from his village as soon as he was released from Rome.

Marcus had delayed giving Laelia the answer, stalling until Maximus had departed for his home and waiting bride. Laelia had left for an extended stay in Capua with her Aunt Faustina, who was vacationing there; to hide her shame and devastation. She tried to distract herself with her young cousins and the weather, but she couldn't focus.

Upon her return to Rome some months later, Maximus was gone on campaign against a Germanic tribe, expanding Rome's empire. It was during that spring that Marcus Aurelius put family before politics. The army returned victorious. Bloodied, diminished, but with victory. A massive feast was thrown in honor of their victory a week later. When Maximus was presented to the Caesar, he had his wife with him, who had traveled to Rome from their village in anticipation of her husband's return. Marcus could do naught but watch his youngest child's heart break as she stood in the glow of a triumphant and happy Maximus, whose wife was heavy with child. Laelia was gracious and handled her hurt brilliantly. Maximus for his part was kind to the girl. So Marcus had rewarded Laelia with a rare promise: she need not marry. Over time he brokered two or three marriage proposals for show, but nothing ever came of them. Laelia was grateful, but lost. Over the next couple of years, when they crossed paths, Maximus was apologetic, but cold.

Laelia focused her attentions on helping the people of Rome and her studies. She sponsored efforts to clean Rome's streets, spent time with scientists and artists, visionaries. Anything she could do to improve the lot of the common person. She sought education, pushing herself to learn every language available to her, pestering her father's scholars and drinking knowledge in as if she were dying for thirst of it. She'd needed a distraction, some purpose.

* * *

Now, seven years later, she sat in front of the great man's ruin. His wife and child, murdered by order of her cruel brother. Laelia sat in silence, thinking for a long while. Calinius approached her, softly. "My Lady, night approaches. We should seek shelter."

She stood, smiling, dusting off her gown. These men had protected her since she was a girl and she viewed them as family. She knew their loyalty was implicit and no matter what, they'd follow her.

"No, I will spend the night here. I need to be alone. The village is small and the likelihood of bandits is slim. I want you to search the countryside for any sign of Maximus. It has been…three days, but there may be…something." Steeling herself against the thought of Maximus' body lying dead in the cold, frozen land, she continued. "By morning, if there is no sign of him, we return to Rome."

Normally, they would argue leaving her unguarded. In her state of despair and knowing the surrounding lands, they were comfortable that Laelia would be safe overnight. Grandrin left her a dagger and told her to stay inside the house with the door bolted. Taking the horses, they bade her farewell and went in search of a ghost.

Approaching the door, Laelia reached out with a shaking hand to open it. Touching the cold wood, she closed her eyes, remembering, for just a moment.

_She was 17. Springtime in Rome was beautiful that year. Marcus' health was good and his spirits better. He'd arranged a series of chariot races before the gladiatorial games. Laelia had been allowed to attend, as she was considered a young woman now. She had been given a seat of honor beside her father's left. Lucilla was to his right. The day was warm; she could still feel the sunlight as she tilted her face up to the sky. The crowd thundered as the chariot procession entered the Coliseum. Each chariot stopped before the Caesar's box to pay homage and receive his blessing. Commodus was first, in a chariot of gold and white gilt, every inch of it polished so that it shone. His two horses were great white stallions, their manes braided and tied with golden bells. Commodus himself was every inch magnificent. He was wearing a white toga, overlaid with golden armor. As the Caesar's son, he wore a laurel wreath about his curly locks. As he pulled to a halt in front of them, Laelia exclaimed, "Oh but brother, you make a beautiful Apollo!" He had been delighted with her compliment and had started to ask for her favor to wear, until Lucilla leaned over the box and placed her hand on his arm. The lightest touch from Lucilla commanded their brother's obedience. And so Commodus had asked, with great ceremony, for his other sister's favor to wear around his arm. Lucilla had chosen a gown of blood red that day, and tied her matching ribbon about Commodus' sword arm. Laelia had sat back down, her face hot with embarrassment. Marcus had patted her hand in sympathy. Laelia stared blankly ahead as the rest of the chariots proceeded. The next to last was Maximus. She had forgotten that he was listed in today's race. His chariot was a burnished copper, carved with griffons. His horses-one white and one black, their manes loose and free in the light wind. Laelia couldn't tear her eyes from him, though. He was resplendent in a cream and navy toga, dark metal armor atop it. His helmet had a blue plume and his skin glowed like some precious light metal. Unable to help herself, Laelia had sprung up when Maximus had finished speaking with her father. _

"_Maximus, would you honor me by wearing my favor in the races today?" she had asked, surprised at how musical her voice had sounded. She could hear Lucilla's sharp intake of breath and her father's amused chuckle. But she never took her eyes from Maximus. _

"_My Lady Laelia, it would be my honor instead, to represent you in today's race," he had replied, his smile spreading sheer joy throughout her entire being. Laelia leaned over the railing and with steady hands, she wound her purple ribbon to his sword arm, tying the end and looking up at him to smile. _

"_Good luck, Maximus and may the gods speed you to victory." She made to lean back from the railing, but not before Maximus had caught her hand. _

_He drew it up to his mouth with both hands, brushing his lips lightly against it in a soft kiss she'd never forget. "I thank you, my lady. I hope to prove worthy of your favor."_

_He had taken the reins, clicking to his horses as the box clapped in appreciation of his prose. Laelia was beaming with delight as she'd sat back down; her father kissed her cheek and told her he was proud of how dignified she'd behaved and that she was a true noble lady. Even Lucilla's quiet, jealous rage would not quell Laelia's happiness that day. Maximus did indeed win the races, even against Commodus who good naturedly joked he should have gone with his first instinct and asked for Laelia's favor. At the banquet that evening, she'd been allowed to sit at Maximus' right, hanging on his every word and brilliant smile. He'd given her the ribbon back as he bade everyone goodbye. "May this bring you as much luck in life as it won me today, fair lady." Her heart had never been fuller. _

* * *

In my telling of this fictional story, I will try to be as historically accurate as I can as far as events and customs go. This was a great, gilded age. If you have any suggestions or sources, please send them my way. Some changes I have made: Maximus' village was a two and half day journey, not in Spain. It doesn't make sense in the movie, either. He wouldn't have been able to race there like that. He would have had a chance to make it to save his wife and son if he'd had to travel that far. One man, even injured, versus a large party of Praetorians. I do not change the characters from the movie much as far as their temperament goes. Time spans changed a little bit. Lucius and Maximus' son are said to be nearly the same age in the movie. I find this to be slightly hard to believe. Maximus was revealed to be the real father of Lucius after the movie released, in a script for a sequel that never was. This is very believable. But I spaced Maximus' son's age a year out, to give him time to find a wife and get her with child. I do think Lucilla broke his heart. She looks out for herself and her son, first and foremost. As always, I do not own any material or characters from the motion picture _Gladiator._


	2. Chapter 2: Food for Thought

**Author's Note: **_This is a bit late, my apologies! I have one more I will try to get posted tonight. Thank you all for reading, please do leave a review!  
_

Chapter the Second: "Food for Thought"

Miraculously, the house had not been touched in the three days since the Praetorians had murdered Maximus' wife and child and razed the fields. After closing the door, she leaned against it. She shook, still. _This is his home, where he lived._ An oil lamp still burned on the kitchen table. She touched nothing, drinking in every detail with her eyes. it was a simply furbished home, clean and cozy. There was the main common room, which she stood in. A hearth against the wall, burned out now, a kettle still next to it. _She could have been making dinner that day, for herself and her son. She had no warning..._ There was a sturdy wooden table on the other side of the room, smooth from years of use. From the main room, she could see two adjacent bedrooms and a smaller room. Curious, she walked to the room in the corner, separated by the rest of the house with a soft brown curtain. Pulling it gently aside, she caught her breath. His wife had painted. Maximus had built her an entire room for it, an easel by a large window with a large animal canvas stretched on it. It had been bleached and pulled taut to make a nice canvas. The half finished scene on the canvas was of the wheat that had been in the field...and her son. A smile played on his lips, looking towards the sky. _He must have watched for his father every day, _she thought bitterly. Paints were on a small table, brushes and canvases and small tumblers of water. Looking gently through the stacked paintings against the wall, Laelia realized how talented she had been. Depictions of the gods, simple still lifes, a dazzling array of talent, which was now wasted at the whim of her vile brother. It was too much to bare. Laelia rushed from the room, a sob rising up in her throat. She couldn't even fathom going into the boy's room, though a toy horse peeked out from the edge of the door. Bile rose in her throat as she stumbled into Maximus' bedroom.

Touching anything here would have made her feel a thief at the moment. Exhaustion set in and she walked swiftly over to the large bed. It was still made, the dark covers tucked in neatly. Unwilling to disturb them, she laid down upon it, in the middle. Her head was in between the pillows. She could smell them both, one scent so familiar and beloved to her even now, mingled with a softer scent, lilacs, which broke her heart. She curled her body up, running her fingers over the coverlet and began to cry. Wracking her whole body, the sobs came forth like waves. She grieved for this woman who had captured Maximus' heart and the innocent son she'd bore him, their lives brutally taken by her own family. She felt personally responsible somehow. As if having loved Maximus and keeping him in her heart all these years had resulted in the wrath brought down upon them. "I will avenge you both," she whispered as she finally drifted to sleep.

* * *

Calinius and Grandrin had found the dead guards but no sign of Maximus. There were no horses, so they assumed Maximus had taken one or more and fled. Knowing Laelia's heartache they were unsure of how or even what to tell her.

"If she knows Maximus lives, she will stop at nothing to find him and risk all, even her very life," Calinius sighed, his horse stamping about in the frost-covered ground.

"But we've never lied to her. We are the only persons who have ever been honest with her. The last connections she has to goodness in this world. How can betray that?" Grandrin growled, swearing and spitting to the side.

"I don't relish the thought. I don't know what to do. Our job has always been straightforward and defined. But now her life is in danger, Grandrin. Commodus has killed the Emperor and will certainly not hesitate to kill a bastard no one will miss."

"I wish I knew what turned that boy to such a vile, cruel deed. He has never been kind, but I knew not that his heart was so black," Grandrin said, shuddering.

They turned their horses back, heading towards the burnt field and the lone house, trying to decide what to tell their mistress. They paced the horses slowly, reluctant to face Laelia.

"I cannot do this. I cannot lie to her face and say Maximus is dead when we don't know ourselves. He could be anywhere. He could be heading back to Rome, fleeing, anywhere." Calinius sighed heavily, trying to think of the words he would say.

"Truly, I don't think she expected us to find anything. I think she wanted to be alone, there. She grieves as much for her heart as she does for Maximus," Grandrin said quietly as the horses crested the hill above Maximus' home.

Nodding in agreement, Calinius spurred his steed on as dawn broke the horizon. Never had light seemed so dark, or their hope so dim.

* * *

She had been quiet, while her two steadfast guards had told her that they'd found no trace of Maximus, only dead guards. The Praetorians that her brother had sent to kill an innocent woman and child. They urged her to make ready to return to Rome, before Commodus noticed her absence.

"What will become of this house? Do you know, what is done...with a...in this situation?" she asked quietly, wringing her hands.

The two men looked at each other and shook their heads.

"Your brother will claim it, no doubt. Lands revert back to the Caesars if a person is accused of..." Calinius began.

"Speak not that word. The only person who has committed that atrocity is my brother. We must empty this house of all things precious to Maximus. I will not see them stolen or destroyed." Laelia found her voice finally, firm and resolute against two skeptical, worried father figures.

They had argued, futilely. She had sent them into the village to find a cart and someone she could trust. Neither were hard to obtain, as Maximus' neighbors had obviously loved him and his family. They were wary of the guards until they explained they were in the service of Laelia and not Commodus.

Once they had purchased a cart and donkey from a merchant who sold milk and cheese, they returned to find Laelia stacking things outside the door, ready to be brought to Rome. She took the paintings, even the unfinished one, but left the paints and easel. She took the child's toys, gently, wrapping each one in a shirt or cloth. _I don't even know their names._ She took all the things she thought would matter the most to Maximus, but left enough to seem as though the house was largely untouched.

It was early afternoon before she was satisfied that the cart had been packed sufficiently. Shutting the door firmly behind her, she offered a prayer up to the gods to keep Maximus safe, wherever he might be.

They stopped again at the merchant's home, so Laelia could thank them both. Softly knocking on the door, she fidgeted in her gown, nervous about speaking with the couple. An old woman, wrinkled and grey answered the door. Her eyes smiled at Laelia and she felt at ease, even as tears sprang to her eyes.

"Hello. I am Laelia, daughter of Marcus Aurelius. I wanted...to thank you and your husband for your kindness. Helping me to preserve Maximus and his family's things. I am sorry for..." she trailed off then, her voice was rattly and she was talking in circles.

The old woman opened the door and her arms. "Child, come in. You've nothing to apologize for." Laelia didn't know the woman but she fell into her arms, sobbing, regardless. The old woman patted her hair and murmured kind words at her. No one had ever hugged her that way, or held her when she was sad. It was something she hadn't experienced before. When she was spent, the woman gently disengaged and held her at arm's length.

"You need to eat, girl. Come sit by the fire and I'll get you a bowl. Go tell those worried men outside to come in too. Mind they wipe their boots." She shuffled off to the hearth. Laelia watched her for a moment. She was slightly hunched but still strong. Smiling, Laelia ducked out of the door and called for Calinius and Grandrin to come in. Reluctant, she bullied them into heeding her. They were large and awkward in the small house, like two terrified mice rather than noble guardsman. Laelia sat down at the table as bid, watching their host.

"May I know your name? I would have a name to put to the very face of kindness." A mother figure was something Laelia had never known. Her own mother had died giving birth to her and so she had been raised by a train of nannies and governesses. None of them had been warm or kind. _It is no wonder Lucilla is as cold as she is._

"Maera, my lady. My husband Ben is still out in the barn with the cows. He'll be in for his supper soon." She set three steaming bowls of thick, chunky stew on the table. Laelia had never smelled food so heavenly. Even the men sniffed in appreciation. For all the decadent fare at the palace, nothing compared to this savory stew they ate now, with relish. Maera had set a wooden slab with warm brown bread on the table and a generous dish of creamy butter. Laelia closed her eyes, letting the butter melt on her tongue as she took a bite of the bread. Ben soon came into the house, stamping his feet off. Both Calinius and Grandrin stood but Ben waved them down and Maera smacked them with her towel.

"Now sit and eat young men. I made enough to feed six more of you and Ben doesn't sit still long enough to eat, do you dear?" she teased, walking over to her husband and giving him a peck on his wrinkly cheek. The old man had chuckled and retrieved his own bowl, eating quickly and making to leave again. He apologized but informed them that he had to get the rest of the cows in from the outer fields before dark. Calinius and Grandrin had insisted on helping. Once the men were gone, Laelia studied Maera as she bustled about the house.

"What was...I mean, in fact..." she stuttered, unable to bring her words to voice. Maera wiped her counter off and came to sit at the table. She took a lng look at her before speaking.

"When Maximus came home, after your sister Lucilla spurned him, he was a broken man. I know because I helped birth all the babes in this village and then watched 'em grow up. Maximus' family moved here when he was very young from Spain. His father had his hands full and so many days Maximus spent hanging on to my skirts, terrified of the cows and growing up." Laelia let out a surprised laugh.

"Truly not! Maximus is the bravest man I have ever known! I cannot fathom him being afraid of a cow!"

"Oh but he was. The other children would tease him from time to time, too. Eventually he got over it but I never ceased to pick at him for it. Even when Oren was born and came to Miss Maera's house play." She smiled wistfully.

"His son? Maximus' son?" Laelia asked, her heart gripped in a strange sort of fear.

"Oh, yes. Oren was the spitting image of Maximus...you didn't know their names, child?" she asked, looking at Laelia with renewed pity.

"Surana was his wife's name. She was a beauty. But you must remember, hmm?"

"Yes. She came to Rome, before..." Laelia trailed off, unable to think of anything to say.

"Look at me, Laelia. I know you loved Maximus. He was an easy man to love. Even Lucilla warmed to his touch and she is as cold as the winter is long. Maera had been recently widowed and they both needed someone to cling to, someone to love. She was very good to him. She was the wife that every man hopes for, every woman dreams of being. Maximus would never have been able to let you heal his heart, after Lucilla. Not another daughter of the Caesar, he wouldn't have been able to trust you. Don't blame yourself or worry over what might have been. Fate takes care of everything even when it seems as though such cruelty should never exist." Maera patted her hand. "I know our warrior is still alive, out there. I don't know that he will come back to Rome, though. He has known far too much loss, from his wife and child to your father. It would be too much to bare. You must press on for both the men you loved."

Laelia reconciled herself to the wisdom that Maera spoke. Maximus' life would be in danger if he ever came back to either Rome or the village. The only way to honour him would be to find a way to stop Commodus and Lucilla. Before she left she gave the old woman one of the paintings, one of the most beautiful ones in fact. It was a small depiction of Apollo and Artemis on a chariot, riding through the clouds. Maera smiled and kissed her cheek.

"I will hang it in my bedroom with the others. Thank you, child. You are kinder than your parentage should allow." _Of course she has others. Surana must have painted her several over the years._

Laelia promised to come back and visit as often as she could, the cottage holding far more sentiment in the hour she'd stayed than her entire lifetime in the palace. With haste, they rode for Rome with Maera waving at them from her door.

* * *

It was dark by the time they arrived. Calinius took charge of securing the cart's contents and seeing the horses to the stable while Grandrin escorted Laelia to her rooms. Zia, her servant, was waiting. Tall, dark skinned and slender, the girl was a few years older than she and had come recently to her service. Laelia instructed her to gather robes, for she was heading to the baths. Quickly she pulled Maximus' pillow from her satchel and tucked it under hers before striding down the hall to the her personal bath. The water was deliciously hot and Zia sprinkled herbs in it before washing Laelia's hair. She inquired lightly of Laelia's trip, but Laelia only insisted she was tired and wished to relax quietly. She knew better than to confide in anyone. Zia could very well be in Commodus or Lucilla's employment and being in this viper's nest meant she had to be extremely careful.

The next morning, she arose early and dressed carefully, having another servant dress her hair up in ringlets and towers, with a few roses for embellishment. Walking down the hallway with Calinius at her heels, she spied Commodus from the corner of her eye.

"Good morning, sister, where have you been? I thought you to be in great mourning for our father, still?" His cold blue eyes pierced Laelia's and watched her like a hawk. Having grown up observing both he and Lucilla, she employed their own tactics against him. Smiling brightly, she leaned up and kissed his cheeks and then his ring.

"Good morning, brother dear. I do miss our father very much. I needed to get out of Rome for a short time to breath. I was only gone a day and a half, did you miss me?" she asked sweetly, taking hold of his arm and smoothly steering him towards the great hall where they breakfasted. Ever aware that Commodus' eyes were on her, she maintained her composure.

"Of course. Rome is duller without your sweet presence. Shall we?" he said, opening the door for her. Lucilla was already seated and eating, frowning at a roll of parchment. She seemed surprised and annoyed to see Laelia. Her eyes were a bit sunken in and her black dress seemed dull as well. Laelia settled in at her brother's right hand and allowed the servants to fill her plate. Lucilla ignored Laelia and began to berate Commodus about one of the city's sewer systems. Knowing how much Commodus hated the politics of the common people, Laelia interrupted.

"Surely, Lucilla, it is too early to bother our brother with the problems of the commoners. Might we digest our food before you begin to speak of such unclean matters?" She smiled at Lucilla, plucking a grape from a bowl and popping it into her mouth.

"Yes. Laelia is right. It is far too early for such topics, Lucilla. I must eat and be off to check on the games for our father's memorial. I'm quite busy today." he sighed, pulling a pastry onto his own plate.

Not to be outdone, Lucilla glared at Laelia. "We are a busy family. It would seem our little sister here traveled to the village where Maximus used to hail from during her...absence." Lucilla raised her water glass, watching Commodus sweep an icy gaze towards Laelia.

Momentarily caught off guard, Laelia swallowed her grapes and wiped her mouth. "Indeed, Lucilla. I am touched you make certain to keep me safe, in both your thoughts and my travels. I went to the cottage, as it now belongs to Rome, to survey it for anything of worth and ensure no peasants had taken it over. As I am sure you are aware, anything belonging to a traitor reverts back to Caesar. It is a shame, truly, that they razed the wheat fields. We could have had them harvested and kept for our own use or sold. The sort of wheat grown there is used in these apricot pastries that Commodus and I like so well, you know," she said, plucking one out of the dish and plucking a piece from it before smiling at her brother. The same pastry was on his own plate, nearly devoured.

"You are very clever to think of such, so quickly in your sorrow," Lucilla shot back, struggling to keep the venom from her voice. Laelia shrugged and continued to eat her pastry, inwardly panicking and hoping Commodus would be swayed.

"I agree, Lucilla. Laelia has shown wisdom beyond her years. She thinks only of our family. We must stick together now, more than ever," he stated, squeezing Laelia's hand and smiling at her.

"Of course, Commodus." Lucilla snipped, smiling tightly and getting up to leave.

Laelia prattled on to Commodus, asking about the games and his coronation as if she was deeply interested, all the while screaming on the inside. Later, she dismissed her servants from her room and threw herself on the bed. _Such deception is exhausting. I do not know how they can manage it so and still keep their snakes' smiles so brilliant. But I will have to learn, if I wish to keep my life and seek vengeance. It will be a long game, indeed._


	3. Chapter 3:Caged

*****WARNING***: **_This chapter contains graphic depiction of an attempted rape. Please note, reader discretion advised._

Chapter the Third: "Caged"

Now firmly back in Rome, she felt like a fox kit in a snake den. The day to day stress of weaving a web if lies as Commodus and Lucilla did exhausted her. Calinius and Grandrin were most helpful, though and for that she was eternally grateful.

Upon returning, she'd commissioned a little-known sculptor to make a fine monument of an angel to place over the graves of Maximus' wife and son. She instructed him to work in secret and made sure Calinius gave him plenty of coin. She also planned on having Maera plant flowers around it, once built. She yearned to visit with her again, but the journey to the village was a long one and it would raise Commodus or Lucilla's suspicions if she were to venture there again so soon.

So she did her utmost to escape notice, attending the various pageants and plays that her brother organized instead of tending to the city. Lucilla was the real power of Rome. She knew how to work the Senators and the people loved her best. Lucilla attended more meetings than Commodus did. Laelia attended some herself, eager to help the common people in any way she could. Recently she'd begun working with a merchant and an engineer of sorts on a good way to rid the city of its waste without dirtying the water supply.

And so time passed, slowly. Laelia fell into a numbing pattern of repetition. On the one year anniversary of Marcus' death, Commodus planned 100 days of gladiatorial games to celebrate his memory. Laelia knew it was more to appease and distract the people and himself than anything. Her brother was not overly popular with the citizens or the Senators.

Laelia and Lucius decided to attend the second week's ceremonies together. They both loved the games and she had been so busy that she'd missed the first week's events. She had promised to take Lucius to see the gladiators in their cages before the matches that day. Lucius' excitement was contagious. She loved her nephew dearly, hoping he would grow up to be like his father and not his serpent of a mother.

She dressed carfully that day, as it was also her 26th birthday. She selected a bright gown or yellow and cream, with a lavender sash to go across her waist and shoulder. She combed her hair up into a simple bun, pinning a jeweled butterfly at the top. Satisfied, she called her guards and headed to retrieve her impatient nephew. Commodus had given her a sizeable purse of coin to spend as a gift and she'd promised to spoil Lucius with it. He was particularly interested in a set of gladiators he'd watched all the week long, who were steadily wooing the crowd. When, with Calinius' assistance they finally located them, Lucius was thrilled. As he ran over to chat with the one called the Spainard, Laelia fanned herself, looking about. Finally, she turned to see whom it was that had so enamored her nephew. She rocked back on her heels, nearly fainting. Grandrin had just then approached and had already seen Maximus; he steadied Laelia's back with a discreet hand.

"Easy, my lady. Do not draw attention to him, or any hope of freeing him will disappear. Breathe, now."

Doing so was quite hard, though. All this time, Laelia had prayed to the gods to keep Maximus safe, had slept upon his pillow, dreamt of him, pined for him and now here he was, caged. She wasn't sure how he'd come to be captured and sold into slavery, much less as a gladiator. She knew she had to set him free, though. She couldn't tear her gaze from him as he was kneeled to Lucius' height, talking animatedly with him. She could hear Calinius speaking with the owner of these gladiators, hear coins clinking and bribes being made. From the man's voice, it seemed he was all to eager to oppose Commodus.

Laelia waited until Lucius had become bored and bounded off with Grandrin in search of sweets before approaching. Calinius had paid the man he called Proximo for a few minutes of privacy and the entrance to that section of the cages was guarded off. She stepped up to the cage, grasping the bars with her pale hands. They were shaking. His back was to her as he was speaking to a tall, dark-skinned and bald man. Thankfully, he was the only other gladiator with Maximus. The man noticed her and nudged Maximus. As the ghost of her heart turned, Laelia gripped the bars hard, fearful of fainting.

"Are you the one they call Spainard?" she asked as calmly as she could.

"Yes," he replied, walking towards her and out of the sun to see her. He recognized her then and stopped in his steps. His body tensed and he had a strange look on his face.

She could no longer hold back her tears. Here he was, finally. Alive. Safe. _Real_. Her chest constricted with joy, fear and desperation. "Maximus!" escaped from her lips, merely more than a choked whisper, but a shout from her heart.

Maximus strode up to the bars. his gaze on her hard and unyielding. "Laelia. Does Commodus know you're here? Does he know I am here?" Maximus questioned her, anger evident in his eyes and voice. She reached a hand through the bars at him, her tears falling fast now. He stepped back, out of her reach, crossing his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Maximus. I tried. I tried...to get there in time. To stop them. I was too late," she said, struggling to contain her sobs as quietly as she could.

"And you are too late, now. Enjoy the games, my lady," came his strangled reply. With that he turned and walked away, calling for a guard. The man he had been speaking with earlier gave her a look of pity as he too, turned to go with Maximus.

Laelia nearly collapsed into Calinius' arms, sobbing. He shushed her, quickly, whispering that their time was short. She had composed herself at last, fighting the urge to run after Maximus, to scream and yell and plead with anyone, everyone, to release him to her. She wanted him safe.

* * *

Her heart had stayed in her throat that afternoon, watching Maximus in the arena. Lucius cheered and the crowd obviously loved him. With his helmet on, her brother could never have recognized him but Laelia did. She knew the contours of his legs, the way his arms drew back into his chiseled shoulders and torso. She watched fearfully as he and his partner put down every foe that came at them. She was terrified. Grandrin had to prompt her to leave the box after the games and Commodus had looked at her oddly. Citing a headache, she retired to her room.

Walking to her quarters, she felt like she was in a trance as Calinius and Grandrin quietly discussed how best to go about this most dangerous task. Now that it was finally happening, that Maximus was here and vengeance was within reach, she was frightened and exhausted. Almost reluctant.

Later, meeting in secret with Senator Graccus, she felt in a blur, too. They began to plot breaking Maximus out of bondage, with the cooperation of Proximo and how to bring Commodus down. Everything seemed surreal until that night. She donned a heavy, hooded cloak and traveled in the dark to Proximo's temporary home, where his gladiators rested and trained. It was very common for a noble woman to pay good coin to bed a gladiator, even more so for one who had been victorious that day or whom was popular with the crowd. It was hardly her intention but the only guise they could use to stay undetected. Even with trusted contacts they needed to always cover their tracks.

Proximo himself had met her at the entrance, taking a few moments to brief her on his progress so far. She heard none of what he said, so nervous was she. She fingered the small bag she had tied at her waist, nervously looking about. Smiling sadly at her, Proximo patted her shoulder and nodded at one of his guards who escorted her from the main house to the lower level where the slaves and gladiators were kept. The rooms where the gladiators were housed for "encounters" such as this were clay huts built into the earth itself, no windows and only a heavy door with one small barred window. The guard stopped at the last door and nodded to her. She had kept her head down and hood up the whole time and now she instructed the man to keep watch and keep the window shut.

With a shaking hand she opened the door, stepping into the room to allow her eyes to adjust. The guard shut the door firmly behind her and Laelia turned to snap the little window's door shut as well. Maximus was leaning against the wall, obviously his wrists cuffed, the chains running behind him to the wall. he wore only a small cloth to cover his parts, torches in the corners of the rooms and a small bed to one side. He stood up when she took a step towards him, eyeing her.

"Well?" Maximus growled, irritation in his voice. "Let's get this over with," he snapped, "So you can go back to whatever noble hole you've crawled from."

She pulled the hood back, looking up at him as she stepped further into the light. Pain and anger flashed on his face. Boldly, she took another step forward, until she was nearly in front of him. He clenched his fists, yaking his arms out and lunging at her, only inches from her.

"Why have you come!" he yelled angrily.

His rage scared her but she stood still, trying to think of something to say to calm him. She looked down, fidgeting with the bag again.

"Jealous bitch, since your brother murdered my wife and child, you think you can now possess me!?"

Shocked, she inhaled a quick breath. Laelia slapped him, hard. She pulled back to hit him once more, so hurt by his accusation but his hand grabbed her by the hair, pulling her down. Laelia withdrew the small bag and yanked herself back up, tears forming in her eyes. She held it up, still silent. He still had her by the back of her head, her hair painfully pulling. Maximus released her, some of her hair catching around the cuff on his wrist and pulling from her scalp. He laughed incredulously.

"You think you can buy my love with coin? Pay me to fuck you!? What good does coin have for a dead man, a slave," he raged, knocking the bag to his feet.

With considerably more calm than she felt, Laelia pulled her hood back up and left, shutting the door behind her.

After his rage had subsided, Maximus slid against the wall down to the ground. It would be some time before they retrieved him, maybe not til morning. The bag stuck to his leg. Pulling it from under him and yanking the strings open, he dumped the contents, expecting a flood of coin. Instead, he uttered a single sob at the sight of what rumbled out. Inside the bag had been one of his son's horse carvings, one that he himself had carved for him, as well as a long strand of ribbon that his wife used to tie her hair up. Quickly, he pulled the ribbon to his face, noting that he could still smell her. Clutching the gifts to his chest, he cried.

* * *

Lucilla and Commodus were arguing again. Stopping short of entering the dining room, Laelia had turned on her heel and went the other way. Rather than listen to their bickering that night, of all nights, she headed for one of the gardens. It was late and she was heartsick.

"My lady, you've not eaten since breakfast," Calinius protested.

"I've lost my appetite. Leave me," she sapped, storming out to the first garden she found.

It was a relatively small one, near the main baths. Tall hedges lined the walkways in most places, almost creating a maze of sorts. The primary flowers here were roses. Laelia loved the fragrant flowers. They were so soft to the touch. Walking through the garden, allowing her fingertips to brush the satin petals, she began to relax. _I wonder if Maximus' lips are as soft as these rose petals..._ She lost herself to her daydreams, wandering about, not paying attention to where she traversed.

She did not see Senator Falco approach.

"My lady, what a pleasant surprise. Stroll with me?" Falco stepped up next to her, offering his arm.

Fear crept up her spine, like a rose vine. "Of course, Senator," she replied stiffly, looking over her shoulder for Calinius.

"Expecting someone?" Falco asked, his voice dripping venom. He gripped her hand over his arm. Her palms were sweaty and she desperately looked around for an exit.

"Perhaps an informant," he asked before stopping in front of a fountain in the corner of the garden. Laelia was now utterly terrified.

"You are not yet married, my lady. It is a wonder that your brother allows such beauty to waste."

"I do not wish to marry. My father swore that he would not force me." Her skin was goosebumps in the chilly night air. Her dress was thin, she'd discarded her cloak in her room earlier. The wind blew it against her, forming to her body. The older man raked his gaze along her body,while nonchalantly splashing his hand through the water in the fountain.

"Your father is no longer the Caesar. As a bastard, you'll be lucky to make a match at all," he snered. "My lady, you're flushed," he said with a look that froze her.

"I'm cold, actuall," she said, trying to shift away from him.

Ignoring her and grasping her wrist, he walked her against the fountain. Cupping his hand in the water, he poured several handfuls on the front of her dress. Soaked, it stuck to her, every contour of her breasts were outlined through the thin fabric. Shivering from the water and fear, she tried to pull away. "Senator, release me, please."

"If you insist on begging, who am I to deny you?" He grabbed her, holding a hand over her mouth and turning her around. He roughly bent her over the fountain, twisting one arm behind her back as she tried to kick away from him. She tried desperately to bite his hand but he had his fingers cupped away from her mouth and he was much stronger than she. Laelia could feel her dress being lifted, now and she began to cry. As she struggled she became aware of how close her face was to the water. He kicked her legs open further and she could feel his slimy penis on her leg, hear his breath in her ear. She screamed and he shoved her head under the water, at the same time trying to stab his way inside her. He missed and roughly hit her thigh. Laelia could hear him curse as she fought to bring her head back above the icy water, desperate for air. She was losing the struggle, her senses going dark. Then, suddenly, he was gone from her and she was falling backwards. She glimpsed guards pulling him away and heard shouting before she hit the ground and everything went dark.

* * *

She awoke, feeling dizzy. She was not in her bed. Panicking anew, she made to roll out of the bed but misjudged. Her head swam and she groaned. She shut her eyes tightly, grasping the covers. She felt the bed sink and smooth fingers on her forehead.

"Shhh, be still. You're safe now." Opening her eyes, Laelia felt anything but safe as she realized she was in Lucilla's room and looking back at her sister, as well. Her throat was dry and when she tried to speak, her voice croaked. Lucilla brought a cup of water to her lips and she drank greedily.

"Slow, now, so you don't choke," Lucilla said softly.

Laelia took a deep breath. Lucilla actually seemed concerned.

"One of my servants was picking roses that bloom only under moonlight for my room when she saw your struggle. She came running and I took every guard I could find. They beat Falco and threw him in a dungeon. We may not agree, little sister, on much but I too am a woman and I would never see you dishonored like that." Something in Lucilla's eyes and the way she spoke made Laelia's panic subside and gave her pause.

"Lucilla...were you?"

"Shhh, rest now. Commodus will see you in the morning." Lucilla stood and swept out of the room suddenly, but not before Laelia noticed tears in her older sister's eyes.

Commodus did visit her the next morning, with a tray of their favourite pastries and some juice. He watched her eat, his face a mix of worry and rage.

"I must apologize. This whole matter is Father's and my fault," he began.

Laelia choked on her pastry.

"He was soft on you because you were the youngest. You should have been married off a long while ago, for your protection. A maiden as beautiful as yourself is too tempting for the wrong men."

Laelia tried to protest, weakly, but her words were stuck in her throat.

"I will give it some time. No doubt you do not relish the thought of being bedded soon after your attack. And I will do my best to find you a young, handsome husband who will love you as Lucilla and I do." He went on, holding her hand and rubbing her fingers.

_He is mad. He believes every word he is saying!_

Commodus patted her hand. "Rest, sister. Perhaps you'll feel well enough to attend tomorrow's gladiatorial games. Lucius is all aflutter over someone the crowd calls Spainard. We must make you happy again." The possesive but wounded pride in Commodus' voice as well as guilt in his eyes told Laelia everything that Lucilla had left out this morning.

Once he had left and she'd eaten, she ordered the servants to fill a tub with scalding hot water. She couldn't get clean enough. She was still angrily scrubbing her arms when Lucilla entered and sent the servants away. She drew a chair up next to the bath.

"I am glad to see you better," she said and then paused, looking down at her lap. "I scrubbed like that, too. I went through bars of soap in one bath. I still do, sometimes."

Laelia stopped short, th soap in her hand drifting to the bottom of the tub.

"Lucilla...I'm so sorry. Was it...Commodus?" Laelia whispered the last bit, drawing her knees up to her chin.

"Of course. Our beloved brother takes what he wants, no matter the price," she said, looking out towards the large window, the curtain blowing in the light breeze. "At least he showed some remorse afterwards. He tried to woo me _properly_ after that," she spat, bitterness saturating her words. Laelia reached a tentative hand out to rest on Lucilla's. After a moment, Lucilla snatched her hand away and once again was gone.

_._


	4. Chapter 4: Trepidation

Chapter the Fourth: "Trepidation"

The next day at dawn, Laelia rose early, she'd not been able to sleep. Nightmares stalked her dreams. Her goal was beginning to cost her more and more, but she was determined to press on. She felt like she owed Maximus more than she could ever repay. She owed his wife and child.

She dressed herself, refusing Zia's assistance. She had unconsciously picked out a mourning gown, a black affair that flowed freely around her body instead of hugging it. It was cut high across her neckline in an asymmetrical shape, clipped at the side with a golden brooch made in the shape of a bird. The layers swirled around her body comfortably. She drew her long golden curls into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, to her right side. A few unruly wisps managed to escape, but the rest she tightened and pierced through with a large ivory pin made of an elephant tusk. She made to leave and breakfast early, alone. She wrapped a dark emerald shawl around her shoulders.

Opening the outer door to her quarters, she was unpleasantly surprised to see an unfamiliar guard standing watch. She recoiled, stepping back. "Where is Calinius!?" She demanded, fear instantly overtaking her. She needed her steadfast protector.

"He...why he is in the dungeons, awaiting execution today, my lady. Had you not been told?" The guard trailed off, obviously uncomfortable at having to deliver such news himself.

Her heart sunk. Pulling her wrap tighter about her body still, she shoved Zia out of her bedroom. "Fetch Grandrin. Open this door _not_ until you have him and only him." She slammed the door then, shaking. _What could Calinius possibly have done to be thrown in the dungeons for?_ She sat on her bed, perched precariously on the edge, worrying. _What does Commodus know, or Lucretia?_

It was nearly an hour before Grandrin's familiar knock sounded at her door. She flung it open, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Without a word, they began to walk down the hall. Laelia waited until she was sure no one was within earshot before she spoke.

"What has happened? What can we do? This is all my fault. I snapped at him, Grandrin. I was horrid to him and what if that is the last thing I ever get to say to him?" Laelia felt helpless and guilty.

"Hush, child. Commodus and Lucretia had Calinius arrested and taken to the dungeons, supposedly for dereliction of duty, abandoning you to your attacker. No, stop. I know. I've already been working on a plan to release him. We must work swiftly. After you've taken breakfast, you must tell Commodus that you wish to visit the ludus and purchase a gladiator from one of the men to keep you safe. I will speak with Proximo and put the rest of the plan into motion. You must trust me."

They had reached the hall. Grandrin squeezed her hand quickly. She felt reassured, but only slightly as she was to step into the den of the two vipers she feared most. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and went into the hall.

Commodus was not at breakfast yet. Only Lucilla and Lucius were present. Still nervous, Laelia allowed a slave to pull her seat out for her and she filled her plate with fruit. She waved off the wine she was offered and instead insisted on water. Lucius was chattering to his mother about how he was loathe to attend his lessons for the day and wanted to become a gladiator.

Offhanded, Laelia mentioned her feigned intent. Lucilla raised her eyebrows slightly but shook her head.

"If you insist. I don't know why you'd feel safer with a barbarian sword than one of our own guardsmen," her sister began. Lucilla ripped open a blood orange, the dark juice dripping onto her plate. Laelia watched it idly.

"You're going to buy a gladiator!? Can I come? Can you buy the Spainard and his friend, Aunt? Then they could teach me to swordfight!" Lucius was practically hopping off his chair in excitement, while Lucilla merely rolled her eyes.

Laelia smiled softly at her nephew. "I don't think so, darling."

"Lucius, you mustn't take the favourite toys away from the people. The crowd would turn to an angry mob. I'm sure those gladiators will fight today and your aunt can take you to see them. She needs a happy diversion. Perhaps Commodus can arrange a private lesson for you, provided they come here to the palace and teach you, not some filthy ludus." Lucius had pouted but Lucilla had only sent him on his way to his lessons for the day. Laelia observed the exchange dryly. Lucilla was a fiercely protective, if detached mother. She rarely spent any meaningful time with her son. Instead, she delegated those duties out to whom she saw fit. Laelia loved spending time with her nephew, or even children in general. One day, she hoped to have children of her own. Or at least she had...

Lucilla turned her attentions to Laelia. "How are you feeling today," she asked, tossing a scrap of some sort of meat onto another plate.

Laelia sighed heavily, looking down at her own, largely untouched, plate. "Better, I suppose. Shaken, still...just cold." She was being truthful. Even in the late summer of Rome, she felt icy.

"Keep yourself occupied, sister. The execution will be at midday. Seeing Falco meet the executioner's axe will cheer your spirits tremendously, I am sure of it. If only I'd had such an option..." Lucilla finished bitterly, cutting into a pomegranate next, brandishing her breakfast knife with more force than was necessary.

_You will have that option, dear sister. I will ensure it..._

xxxxxx

Laelia and Grandrin were shown into Proximo's sitting room. The house which he had rented for the period of the games was spacious and clean, thankfully. The outer walls were some sort of brown stone, a one-story affair that sprawled out and down into the ludus itself. The training areas had been dug down into the ground, the entire area fenced off. Several of Proximo's guards patrolled the grounds.

A small slave entered with wine. She had skin the colour of a freshly picked olive, smooth and shining. Her head had been shaved bald and a large golden torque was around her neck, with the stamp of Proximo's house imprinted on it. She was clothed in a simple dark blue gown and brown sandals. keeping her eyes down, she poured the sweet wine for Laelia and Grandrin, upon Laelia's instructions. She tried to smile at the girl, but as a slave, the poor girl had been taught to keep her eyes averted. When the slave had finished, she stepped back and placed her hands together.

"My master will be with you shortly, he was not expecting visitors today and is outfitting a gladiator with new armor. Will you require anything else?"

The girl bowed and retreated from the room. Laelia sipped her wine, moving about the room restlessly. The wine was bitter, stinging her tongue with its sharpness. It was too strong. Pausing near a doorway, she could hear Proximo.

"Wear it well..." came his deep, throaty voice. The voice which replied was Maximus'.

Laelia's heart caught in her throat. She started and moved to press open the door. Grandrin caught her arm and she turned, finally seating herself in resignation. Her whole body felt stiff though, she longed to hear Maximus' voice again.

Proximo had spotted her, however and now strode into the room, fanning himself with a large fan, adorned with peacock and white feathers.

"Ah, I was just passing on some of my old gladiator armor to my best gladiator. Forgive me, I didn't expect you." He smiled at them though and Laelia caught herself smiling back. He reminded her, oddly, of her father.

"Urgent business, I deeply apologize for the intrusion, sir." Grandrin bowed towards the man.

"Hmm, I see. Come, let us discuss this in a more private setting then." He held his arm out for Grandrin to follow. The two men started off down the hall but Proximo stopped and turned back towards Laelia. "My lady, perhaps you could take a look at my Spainard and tell me if his new armor is suitable for your auspicious Coliseum?" He winked at her and then took back off down his hall, the same slave who had poured her wine following.

Laelia rose dutifully, almost mechanically. Her hands folded in front of her, she allowed a guard who materialized almost out of nowhere to show her into the room Proximo had entered from, originally.

Standing near a large window that overlooked the fighting arena, was Maximus. Red curtains billowed in the warm breeze around him. He was dressed in a rough blue tunic with a brown belt at his waist. He was tinkering with the straps on the armor. It gave Laelia a simplistic joy to watch him, so she stood quietly for several minutes watching him work with the leather. Finally, Maximus looked up and noticed her. He seemed startled but stopped what he was doing and quickly strode over to her.

"Laelia...I must thank you for the gifts and apologize for my harsh words, I..."

Hearing him breathe her name crushed her heart. Something she longed for had made her feel desolate instead. "You've nothing to apologize for," she said, her voice a flat monotone.

Maximus looked at her peculiarly then, as she stared blankly ahead. She neglected to make eye contact. The gladiator reached out his hand to touch her arm. Startled, she jumped, tears forming in her eyes.

"Laelia, what is wrong? Has something happened? I know you and I can tell..." Maximus began, his voice was deep, tinged with concern and apprehension.

"You know naught, Maximus," she said, wrapping her arms around her body, suddenly chilled again. She didn't know why she was being so wroth with him, he'd done nothing wrong, really. He was being tender with her, something she'd wanted all her life. She was alone with him and had the chance to stare into his eyes, yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. She felt dirty, used and spoiled.

"Then tell me," Maximus said, stepping forward further. The heat from his body warmed her, he was directly in front of her now. Looking up finally, she allowed her eyes to meet his gaze. Whatever she'd been afraid of seeing in the man she loved's eyes was not there, however. All she found was compassion and honesty. Taking a deep and shaking breath, she decided to be brave and tell him.

"Senator Falco tried to rape me last night," she said, her voice small and quiet, wavering with the indignation and pain of it all.

Laelia gripped her arms fiercely then, digging her nails into her flesh. She pointed her gaze back at the floor, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. Maximus gently disengaged her arms, setting them at her side. She allowed him, trying to focus on the feel of his touch and forget that her body had been so abused.

Before they could speak further, Grandrin and Proximo entered, leaving a gaping hole once again, where so much was left unsaid between them. Grandrin walked close to Laelia and Maximus dipped his head, stepping back. Proximo was at the door speaking with one of his slaves.

"General, it is good to see you well," Grandrin whispered, landing a fierce look at Maximus.

The look on Maximus' face was impossible to describe, but Laelia knew that he must have appreciated Grandrin's kindness and respect.

They departed shortly after for the palace once again, Grandrin walking closely to Laelia.

"Calinius will live. Proximo will substitute one of his weakened slaves whose mind is addled for Caliunius before the execution. That man will meet a cleaner death with the executioner in the arena than he otherwise would. Calinius will be brought back here to live in the ludus under the guise of a gladiator. Maximus must win a few more fights before Proximo can give him the wooden sword. Although he is committed to our cause, Maximus and his friend are earning Proximo quite a lot of coin and he is loathe to part with them before the end of the games. But he will. He hates Commodus. And he will help us put our final plan into motion."

Laelia only nodded. She was tired of fighting, of hurting and scheming. She was quite simply exhausted and she wanted to run away. Maera's cabin seemed the perfect place to run to.

She was restless back in her apartments. She floated through them as if a ghost, unwilling to commit to the solidity of any one room. She was torn, about the executions as well. She didn't want to see Falco again, even though he would be dying for his crimes. But what of the man taking Calinius' place? _He is innocent and deserves death no more than Calinius does._ Lost in her thoughts, she wandered to Commodus' suites, almost automatically. She wasn't sure why. he was sitting on the floor, reading to Lucius from a book. Their curly-haired heads were tilted together, so identical were they that their locks blended together and you couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. Their backs rested against Commodus' master bed. She shuddered, wondering if it was the same bed that Commodus had violated Lucilla in. She realized, then, that Maximus was not likely Lucius' father, that Commodus was instead the sire. _She left Maximus then...now I know why_. _She felt as I do, unclean and unworthy for someone like Maximus_. She almost felt sorry for Lucilla having lost Maximus, but for knowing how scheming and evil Lucilla could be.

After a fashion, Lucius' head drooped against her brother's shoulder. Laelia padded into the room silently, to stand before them. She bent, taking the book from Commodus and setting it on the stand beside the bed. Commodus easily lifted Lucius into his bed, after which Laelia pulled a cover over his little shoulders. Leaning down, she kissed his forehead.

"Sleep well, nephew." She breathed in his innocence. It was healing, it made her feel like there was a reason to press on in this hateful and hard world.

Withdrawing to Commodus' sitting room, he was waiting for her, pouring wine for them both and looking puzzled. Laelia accepted the proffered cup, taking a deep drink from it. The wine was light, just slightly spice and cold.

"What troubles you, sister?" Commodus asked as he watched her intently.

"I don't...I don't know. Falco is to be executed today, but I am...still scared." She ran her fingers thoughtfully around the cup, the cold metal glimmering in the late morning light.

"What can you fear, he is safely ensconced in the dungeons, awaiting his just punishment?" Commodus looked baffled and slightly offended.

She frowned again, tapping her glass with her fingertips and steeling herself to be careful against her brother, a formidable foe.

"You don't believe me? Do you not trust me, Laelia?" Commodus demanded of her, his face darkening, dangerously.

It took all of Laelia's being not to physically shudder or reply with the truth. She raised her eyes slowly, widening them for effect.

"What if someone betrays you? What if one of his spies frees him, puts someone else in his place?" She forced her voice to crack, praying for the result she needed.

Commodus shook his head, waving her away.

"nonsense. No one would dare defy me as such. No, Falco dies today." He paused, looking out the window. He turned to her, smiling.

"Caesar is generous though. I shall escort you to the dungeons myself, to set your mind at east. You may even give your farewells to Calinius."

It had worked. The tiny seed of doubt she had planted had fed off of and flourished from Commodus' vast ego. She rewarded him with a tired smile. She set her wine cup down, then stepped over to Commodus. She lifted his hand up with both of hers, kissing his rind, her father's ring. Bile rose in her throat but she forced it down.

"You are generous, indeed, brother. Thank you."

xxx

It had been nearly an hour before Commodus had finished his business and was ready to go to the dungeons. Laelia fretted, worrying they wouldn't have enough time. The midday games would start with the executions, giving the crowd a thirst for blood, to which the gladiators would gladly answer.

She walked down the long, cold corridors with Commodus and a small retinue of his personal guards. When they had finally reached the door to the prison proper, her heart was beating so loud she feared it would echo off the walls. Stepping into the inner room, Laelia was shocked. There were iron bars on either side of her, the light so dim from the sparse torches that she couldn't see far ahead. The smell was overpowering. Dank mold mixed with filth, urine and feces. She nearly screamed as a rat scuttled close to her feet. Commodus patted her arm as one of the guards chuckled.

"Show us the traitor Falco," he commanded, his voice ringing throughout the dank room. They were shown to a cell towards the middle of the prison. Falco was chained to the wall, his arms and legs shackled. Hearing them approach, he looked up then spat in their direction. Laelia gasped and clutched Commodus' arm. A dungeon guard reached his arm through the bars, flicking his wrist which held a black, leather whip. It caught Falco's face, his cheek splitting open slightly, blood running down his face.

"Quiet, prisoner!" The guard shouted, veins straining on the side of his face. His spittle flew from his mouth to land on Falco's shirt.

"See, now, this treacherous snake has had its fangs removed. It may hiss, but we will take its head off soon enough." Commodus glowered at Falco as he spoke.

"No one betrays Caesar and lives to speak of it," he said, venom dripping in his voice. Laelia wondered which of the two men were indeed the more venomous viper.

She thanked Commodus and turned her face from Falco, pressing it into Commodus' arm. She didn't want to look at the man who had violated her, who had nearly taken her maidenhead. She felt as if it had been taken though, she felt dirtier than the entire prison she stood in.

"May I see Calinius now?" She nearly whispered her request, truly sickened by being in the dungeon and so close to her attacker, not to mention in such close quarters as her brother. She forced herself to breathe.

"Of course. I shall leave two of my guards with you. I have other business to attend to before the games. Don't worry, sweet sister, you are safe under my protection. I shall see you at the games." Commodus grasped her head, tilting it to him to kiss her forehead. Then he was gone, a whirlwind of gold and white, illumination in the dark and dank dungeon. _How curious, for one so bright to be filled with such darkness._

The two remaining guards directed her to a corner cell at a higher level. It was cleaner and lit with more torches. Calinius sat upon a bench, his head in his hands. He was not shackled and she was glad of it. She turned to the guard closest to her.

"Unlock the door, please. He will not harm me."

At the sound of her voice, Calinius sprang up. The guard dutifully unlocked the iron door, pulling it open and allowing her to enter. She wanted to throw herself into Calinius' arms and sob. He was like a father to her and she could not hold back all of her sorrow. Soft tears spilled from her eyes to her cheeks. Calinius grasped her hand with both of his.

"My lady, I am so sorry. I failed you...I am ashamed." He hung his head then.

Gently, Laelia took her other hand, pressing her palm to his dirty cheek.

"Calinius, you are not at fault. I was foolish to storm away. I paid the price for that."

Her protector looked up at her, tears in his old eyes, held in only by anger.

"I have watched over you since you were but a girl. I cannot bear the thought of you coming to harm, on my watch. You have always been like a daughter to me. I would tear Falco limb from limb..."

Laelia turned to the guards waiting patiently outside the cell.

"A clean cloth, please and some water." She waited until the one guard had left to fetch her requested items and the other far enough out of earshot. Whispering feverishly, she told Calinius of her and Grandrin's plot with Proximo. He did not have time to reply before the guard entered the cell, handing her a small bowl of water and a marginally clean cloth.

Dipping it into the cool water, she cleaned the older man's face carefully with the small towel. "We shall see each other soon, my friend," she whispered.

Kissing Calinius' cheek, she left him to follow the guards back to her quarters. Passing the cell where Falco was, she stopped short. He was yelling and cursing at them all, despite the crack of the whip from a dungeon guard. Pushing her fear back as hard as she could, she gathered her iciest, most demanding tone.

"Cut off his cock, before you lead him to execution. He shall violate no one again, even in the afterlife."

"Yes, my lady," came the guard's reply. Falco began screaming and begging for mercy. She would offer him none.

xxx

The sun was high when Laelia took her seat with the rest of her family. She had changed into a deep crimson gown and allowed Zia to braid her hair and pile it atop her hair. She fanned herself with a matching feather fan, trying to ignore Lucilla's prattle. She watched, distracted, as an orator announced that the day's games would be reenacting some war, a betrayal of one side against the other. She couldn't pay enough attention to catch the history lesson. She was worried, though. Staged fights which were historical reenactments were even more dangerous for gladiators because they were set up. The deaths had been predetermined. What if Maximus had been assigned to the losing side? Lucius gave voice to her concerns, however.

"Uncle! What if the Spainard is on the bad side! I don't want him to die!" He looked positively ready to cry at a moment's notice.

Commodus smiled brightly at him. "Ah, Lucius, you pay attention to the histories well. The game organizers would not put the crowd's favourites in too much danger," he said, soothingly to their nephew. "Now tell me, what happened when..."

Laelia let her attention wander away from Commodus and Lucius' history discussion. She surveyed the arena. The prisoners for execution were being led in slowly. The crowd roared with gusto, their bloodlust apparent and disturbing. Squinting, she was morbidly satisfied to see a dark maroon stain on the front of Falco's robes. He had to be practically carried in. Satisfaction gave way to shock and fear, though, when she realized Calinius was still in the arena. Her mouth became dry, she called for water, desperately trying to figure out what had happened.

The executioner stood before the line of prisoners, a tall, massive beast of a man. His dark, thick limbs were littered with scars, visible even clear up in the stands. He wore black boots, encasing calves that looked as large as a small tree's trunk. His armor was also black, with flaps and a chest piece. Over his shoulders lay dull silver armor, spikes atop the left side. His face was hidden by a massive, horned helmet, slits for the eyes and the mouth open to reveal a snarling countenance. In his bulging arms he wielded an axe nearly half his size, which was monumental in itself. He walked behind the prisoners, announcing their names and crimes before shoving them to their knees in the arena sand, with a kick of his large boot. When he reached Calinius, Laelia's heart clutched.

"Alexander Calinius, to be executed for abandoning his post!" The guard's voice boomed, echoing through the arena. The crowd booed and stomped their feet. Lucilla patted her hand sympathetically as she looked away.

"Former Senator Falco, condemned for treachery!" The crowd went wild with ire, throwing food and miscellaneous things into the arena as they booed and screamed obscenities.

Laelia kept her face turned, resting her chin on Lucilla's shoulder. She breathed in the fragrant scent of her sister's dark hair, apples and something soft. She could hear the crowd roaring and shrieking as the prisoners were killed one by one.

Suddenly, Lucilla shrugged her off, squeezing her hand. She snapped her head around, just in time to see the executioner slice the bonds on Calinius and Falco's hands away. Another guard tossed two swords into the sand in front of them. Falco was shaking his head in terror. He tried to get up and run, but the executioner just laughed and kicked him back towards a waiting Calinius. Her guard already had his sword and from her seat, she could tell he'd done this himself, planned this out, his revenge. His last gesture.

The loss of blood was making Falco weak, that much was obvious. Calinius circled him, smacking his blade out of the senator's hands every time he retrieved it and then yelling at him. The mob roared with laughter, cheering Calinius on. After the fourth attempt, Falco dropped to his knees. He looked to be begging for his life. The crowd began to chant, then, what Laelia already knew.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Calinius grabbed Falco by his throat, said something and spat in his face, before thrusting his sword across Falco's throat. Blood spattered across her former guard and into the pristine arena sand. The crowd was on its feet, the roar from their pleasure, deafening. Calinius threw his blade down with a flourish, turning to the crowd.

They began chanting, "Save, Save!"

Laelia drew her breath in sharply, looking at Commodus. He was watching the crowd, enjoying it. Finally, he stood, raising his hand. He smiled, waving for silence. It was excruciating to watch, waiting. He put his hand up high, his thumb sideways. He turned this way and that, teasing the crowd. Laelia was shaking, waiting on his decision. She knew saying anything would not work to Calinius' favour. Commodus turned his head slightly to look at Laelia, grinning. She had to clutch at Lucilla to keep from fainting. He turned his thumb up, ever so slowly, to the screams and cheers of the people of Rome. They changed their chant once more.

"Caesar! Caesar! Caesar!"

She allowed herself to relax, grateful, if only for the briefest of moments.

_._


End file.
